


The Sound of the Ocean

by delighted



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Character Study, Danny resists, M/M, Pre-Slash, Steve is like the ocean, but it's inevitable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delighted/pseuds/delighted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two times Steve and Danny sit and listen to the waves.</p>
<p>A prequel of sorts to "Sand Between My Toes," "Saltwater Kisses," and "Frangipani."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soothes My Restless Soul

**Author's Note:**

> The sound of the ocean  
> Soothes my restless soul  
> The sound of the ocean  
> Rocks me all night long
> 
> “White Sandy Beach of Hawai’i,” Israel Kamakawio’ole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a really long, really rough week, the boys sit on the beach with some beers... and maybe they’re finally too tired to resist the inevitable.

It’d been a long week. They were often long weeks, but this one had been especially long. And it had been especially hard on all of them. Physically, with long hours and long chases (even Steve had begun complaining after the last one). And emotionally, with heartbreaking stories come to light and heart-wrenching loss. But, like even the worst of weeks eventually do, the week had finally ended. Chin and Kono had a family event that weekend, so they’d headed out straight after work that Friday. Grace was with her mom, and while Danny almost considered calling and begging for his daughter for the weekend because he was in serious need of comfort, he  _really_  wasn’t up for dealing with Rachel, especially as so much of the week had been very prominently in the news, and she would have known why he was so desperate to see Grace which would have led to a lecture and all kinds of bad memories he frankly did not need right now. Instead, he said, somewhat peevishly, that he planned on sleeping all weekend. But Steve had other ideas.

“Come on. Back to my place. Beer. Beach. It’ll do you good,” he insisted.

“I can barely sit upright,” Danny protested. “Need  _bed_.” He knew he was whining, but he didn’t really care.

“Danny,” Steve said, in his I’m-an-expert-in-this voice. “Listen to me, after a week like this, you need to  _not be alone_.” He was doing the I’m-concerned-about-you thing that he did so often, and Danny would ordinarily have argued back. But there was something about the pleading look in Steve’s eyes that led Danny to suspect that  _Steve_  needed to not be alone. Which pulled at his heart, as all things about Steve and being alone did. And, he had to admit, being alone himself right now was probably not the best idea either.

“Ok. You’re right.” He attempted a smile, and a pat on Steve’s arm. Steve perked up perceptibly at the touch, which made Danny’s heart go a little floofy.

“Good. I’ll drive.” He held out his hand for Danny’s keys.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Why am I not surprised.” He knew it sounded grumpy. He  _felt_  grumpy. But it seemed to him that it didn’t sound as angry as it usually did. He chalked it up to his extreme tiredness and extended lack of peace.

*

The fridge looked like Steve was prepared for a weekend of Beer & Beach and not much else, though Danny did notice a few of his favorite snacks on the counter. If Danny’d thought about it, he might have been a little suspicious, but frankly he was too tired and too crabby to bother. They each grabbed a six pack and headed down towards the water.

The sun was close to setting, and the sky was clear, the sea calm. The waves lapped gently at the sand, and the sound seemed more muted to Danny than it usually did—maybe that was his exhaustion talking, but it almost seemed... soothing.

Typically, when they went for beers after rough weeks, they each drank their first beer fairly quickly, without speaking—allowing themselves some time to just let their minds sort thru the day, and granting themselves some time “alone,” while still being together—so it was nothing more than habit if they did so on this occasion. They finished at the same time, as the usually did, and as they opened their second beers, they paused, sighed, and then continued in silence. Considering it had been an especially rough week, it was hardly surprising. 

Midway through their third beers, Steve started to speak. “Should we—“

“Naw,” Danny replied, and he was surprised to hear he sounded less grumpy than he had before. “Too tired to move. Food can wait.”

With the primacy of beer and beach established, they settled more confidently into their lounging, and some of the strain of the week began to seep out of them.

They weren’t looking at each other, which was unusual for them—as invasive as they tended to be with each other—and there was some subtle hint of tension, just barely perceptible, in their avoidance of each other’s eyes. But, as it grew dark, and they began to be enveloped in protective secrecy, their comfort levels rose palpably.

Danny was finding himself, perhaps more than usual, comforted by the close presence of his partner. That solid but persistent force at his side grounded him, he knew, and sometimes he was frustrated by that (because of what he didn’t want to admit it might mean), but tonight he was oddly at peace with it.

He found himself watching the waves, as they climbed gently up the sand, then slid gracefully back out. It seemed as though each time they did they took away some of the ache, the hurt, the sorrow of the week. Just a little, a bit at a time, almost imperceptibly, gradually wearing away at him, making him more pliant, more peaceful, more at ease.

As his thoughts drifted off from that bizarrely comforting thought, he found himself thinking that Steve’s presence had a similar effect. His solidity balanced Danny’s tendency to float less-than-permanently over the surface, his reluctance to tie himself down, to commit to anything other than Grace and his work. Steve was like a weight—not that dragged him down, but that  _slowed_  him down (which was spectacularly ironic, given the difference in their driving styles). Sometimes Danny fought it, he’d admit that. It was frankly terrifying to be that drawn by anything, let alone a thing such as Steve. But sometimes, just sometimes, Danny didn’t fight it, and sometimes, it felt so good to just give in to that pull. He knew he was beyond tired, or he never would have admitted that, even to himself. He sighed, and relaxed even further, simply not capable of worrying about that right now. The evening was warm and embracing, the sound of the ocean was soothing him, lulling him into a place of solace, and it felt good, and he was too worn down to resist.

At some point during their fourth beers it became obvious that something was shifting between them... something beyond just a really rough week, something more than finally relaxing after work. There was an inevitability to it, this thing between them, always had been—like the pull of the tides. And maybe it was just that they were both finally too tired, too empty to resist (their natural protective system, their banter, was tapped out by the events of the week). And perhaps it would have taken something substantial, like this week, to break through the layers of whatever it was that held them apart. But at the same time, there was such a positive force to it, as though in their weakness they were embracing their strength.

If Danny had been watching Steve at that point, he would have known something was about to happen. But even without looking, he suspected—there was a decisiveness to the way Steve finished his fourth beer, and Steve’s decisions had become tangible things to him. Danny could tell, by some subtle shift of his energy, that Steve was about to do something.

Steve held out his hand for Danny’s empty bottle, and as Danny reached for his fifth beer from Steve, he found himself holding Steve’s hand instead.

With his other hand, Steve handed him a fresh beer, which Danny took while at the same time firming his grasp on his partner’s hand. Then he settled more easily back in his chair, digging his feet into the still-warm sand, and possibly sighing just ever so softly. He sensed rather than saw Steve’s smirk in response, and he smiled just a little himself.

The sound of the waves had grown louder in the dark, in that strange way they sometimes did, as if they wanted to make up for not being seen with an increase in volume. Danny  _felt_  them more tangibly than he had when he’d been watching them, which was an odd sensation. But still it was almost a comfort... as if by washing out the other sounds, the waves had created a safe space for what was happening there on the beach.

Finally, Danny spoke. “Ok. So, beer and beach wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.” He was afraid he was grinning more than he wanted to, and felt his cheeks were heated even though the night had become a bit cool.

At that, Steve looked directly at him, with that cocky-ass smile that Danny would deny made him prickle with delight, and stood up. He pulled a blanket off the back of his chair, spread it out on the sand, and held his hand out to Danny, who took it and allowed himself to be pulled up.

They stretched out on the blanket, side by side, and looked up at the stars. Steve interlaced the fingers of their linked hands, and if Danny sighed and snuggled into Steve’s side, he wasn’t about to admit it. But just maybe, he might have admitted that the sound of the waves was maybe not quite so annoying as he’d tended to assert. Maybe.


	2. Rocks Me All Night Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes home to find Danny sitting by the beach....

When Steve pulled up to his house just before sunset, he spotted Danny’s car in its usual spot. He maybe should have been surprised—they didn’t have plans that night—but he wasn’t. He’d had a feeling that Danny, despite insisting the day before that he needed a day  _all to himself, thank you very much_ , wouldn’t manage to stay on his own. Steve had spent most of the day surfing with Chin and Kono—and they’d all felt guilty by turns for the absence of their fourth quarter. They’d decided to take Danny for a nice breakfast the next morning if none of them had heard from him before then.

Relieved to see Danny had come around after all, and hoping he hadn’t been waiting for too long (they hadn’t planned to stay out quite so late, but the waves had been fantastic, and it was too easy to keep saying “just one more” again and again). Steve grabbed his board from his truck and took it to the back to wash it off. He stilled when he saw that Danny was sitting in his usual chair looking out at the ocean, instead of inside watching football and drinking Steve’s beer, which was what he had assumed Danny would be doing. Leaning his board against the porch railing, he walked towards Danny.

“Hey, buddy,” he called, not too loudly, so as not to startle Danny, who looked like he was lost in thought.

“Hey, babe,” came the reply. “Good waves?” He sounded so morose, Steve’s heart lurched, and he kicked himself for staying out so long. He reached out to rub Danny’s shoulder.

“Danno, hey,” he soothed, wanting so badly to comfort him. “You should have come with us, buddy,” Steve said, attempting to get Danny talking.

“Heh,” came the reply. “Very funny.” But he made no sign of moving, or of saying more.

Steve tried again. “Why are you sitting out here rather than inside with a beer and the TV?” They tended to only sit out here when they needed to think—or more likely  _not_  think—so it had Steve a little concerned.

Danny didn’t have a snappy come back for that, and now Steve was really worried, because, well, really, Danny had a snappy come back for everything. He hesitated momentarily between going inside to get beers and just staying with Danny till he opened up. Deciding against leaving Danny, he moved to sit down in his chair, and was glad he had, as Danny relaxed considerably once he was seated next to him.

Danny even kind of smiled. “You know what’s funny?” He asked. “Hilarious, even.”

“What’s that, Danno?” Steve asked softly, so as not to deter him from his confession.

“It was too quiet at home,” he said, bemusedly. “I missed the sound of the waves.” He huffed out a laugh that sounded almost… dismayed.

Steve tried not to smile at that, but it was no minor progress from his perspective. He knew better than to gloat, however. “Well, you get used to it,” he said, he hoped neutrally. “And it gets hard to be away from it.”

Danny turned to face him. “It  _is_  hard to be away.” He said it simply, but the look he gave Steve was anything but simple.

Steve was out of his chair and kneeling in front of Danny before he even knew he had thought to move. “C’mere,” he insisted, putting his arms out.

Danny sat forward and practically fell into Steve’s grasp. He let out a breath that was almost a sob, his hold on Steve tightening till he was clinging on like he was afraid he might drown.

Steve knew how he felt—the force of the emotion rolling off Danny was so intense, it almost made him seasick. “Hey, hey, hey,” Steve soothed.  “I’m right here,” Steve had a flash of insight. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here, right with you, whatever you need. I’m right here.”

It was clearly the right thing to have said, because Danny seemed to calm. Pulling back to try and look him in the face, Steve whispered: “There ya go, that’s better.” Danny nodded. “Have you eaten anything, buddy?” Steve asked, thinking Danny didn’t do very well when he was hungry, and that might at least help a bit. Danny shook his head slowly. Steve thought for a moment. “How about we order a pineapple-free pizza, grab some beers, and head up to the lanai. There are more comfortable chairs up there, we can still hear the ocean....” He trailed off, uncertain how much the sound of the waves was actually a part of this… whatever this was. Danny shrugged noncommittally, and Steve was a bit nervous about pushing it, but he was still salty and damp and, if he was going to get to cuddle with Danny, he wanted to make the most of it. It wasn’t something that happened often enough for his taste, and he planned to savor it.

Steve stood, and held out a hand to Danny, hoping that would get him to come with him, and it did. He led Danny slowly upstairs and out to the lanai that was off the bedroom. He sat Danny down on the wicker sofa, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Be right back, Danno,” he whispered.

As quickly as he could, he rinsed off and threw on some sweats, then ran down stairs and grabbed a six pack of Longboards and called for their usual pizza. When he got back upstairs, Danny was shivering slightly, so Steve sat next to him and pulled Danny up against him, rubbing his shoulder gently and rocking him a little bit, in an attempt to soothe him. Danny sighed and let his head fall against Steve’s chest, which made Steve’s heart just  _melt_.

Steve hated how much Danny fought stuff. He wished he would just let go and follow his heart. Sometimes he could just— _ugh—_ he would never but he really got angry with Rachel when Danny was like this. Steve knew, when Danny was worn down—too tired, too hungry, or too emotionally beat up because of work or family—he would let his guard down. Not on purpose, almost as if he just couldn’t hold it  _up_ any longer, and then… Steve sighed.  _Then_  he would give in to this pull between them. Sometimes it was a cuddle against him on the sofa, sometimes something a bit more. Never as much as Steve wanted, never enough. And always only when Danny was in some way weakened or compromised, and Steve just hated that it took something that hurt Danny to get him to allow himself  _comfort_.

Part of Steve was wondering, not daring to hope, but just wondering, if that wasn’t somehow changing. Danny’d never come on his own to Steve like this before. Well, not  _quite_  like this. Usually it was Steve urging Danny—begging him, for crying out loud—to allow himself to be loved. Not in those words, but it was always what Steve meant. He expressed his love to Danny in the ways he’d learned Danny would take... like chocolate in the freezer, Chinese take-out after a long day, or a six pack of beer on the beach.... Steve sighed. He’d hoped, after that very memorable night, that it meant a shift, and he’d felt for a while it had. But Danny’s shell had hardened, his resolve to resist had returned when he’d been more rested... and though he’d been more easily tactile (and that was saying quite a bit—this was Danny after all), Steve got the sense he’d been resisting even harder after that. Maybe that had finally broken, Steve thought—hoped. And that sounded awful even to his own ears, but he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He did know, with absolute certainty, that he needed to not be the one to push it. He needed to let Danny come to him.

Well. And here he was. And, oh, but it just hurt Steve’s heart that Danny was so crushed by this. That admitting... admitting that it was “hard to be away” (and, God, please let that mean what Steve wanted it so badly to mean), had seemingly broken Danny. Well, Steve was going to do what he could to get him together. But it needed to be Danny to decide to stay.

Much as he was loathe to move from such a splendid position, with Danny fitted snugly against his chest, he knew the pizza would be coming soon, and he wanted to get some beer in Danny, so that maybe he’d say something. Steve leaned forward enough to open two bottles, handed one to Danny, then leaned back, pulling Danny more tightly against him.

Danny tucked his feet up under him, shivering slightly, and took a long pull on his beer. “Thanks, babe,” he said softly.

Steve kissed Danny’s head again in response. “Sure thing, Danno.”

They sat there like that, drinking their beers and listening to the ocean, Steve occasionally rubbing Danny’s shoulder, or swaying gently. He’d been on the waves for long enough that day that he could still feel the pull of them inside him, and it was like he was mimicking that movement with his soothing of Danny. He hoped it was helping, though he just couldn’t be certain.

They heard the doorbell for the pizza. “I’m gonna go get that, buddy,” Steve said. “Ok?” Danny nodded, a little absently, and Steve wondered just when exactly the last time was Danny had eaten.

When he returned with plates, napkins, and the pizza, he found Danny curled in a ball on the sofa. He slid back into his place, shifting sideways so Danny could lean against him. That seemed to draw Danny out of himself a bit, and he looked toward the pizza with at least a little bit of interest. Steve sighed in relief.

“Come on, Danno,” he encouraged. “You need to eat.”

Danny only managed to eat one piece, but he did take a second beer when Steve pressed it into his hand. And he felt, Steve thought, more together, less shattered. Still, Steve just didn’t want to leave him again, so he left the pizza sitting there, and snuggled more deeply into the wicker sofa, pulling Danny with him. He felt Danny resist just a little, and that spooked him.... He thought about suggesting a walk on the beach, but wasn’t sure. So, he started his soft swaying motion again, and eventually Danny seemed to settle more easily against him, so Steve would ease up, but he’d feel Danny tense back up, so he’d resume. After the third time, Steve worked a few soft kisses in, on the top of Danny’s head, and that made Danny sigh and settle closer against Steve, where he finally drifted off.

Steve slowly let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Closing his eyes, he struggled with his thoughts.  _Don’t get excited, McGarrett_ , he scolded himself sternly but silently.  _He’s delirious, emotional_ —he laughed at himself for that— _ok. Ok, he’s always emotional_. He sighed softly. “Sleep tight, Danno,” he whispered, then tried, valiantly, to sleep at least a little himself.

Some time later, he awoke, and it was Danny who seemed to be soothing him. He startled slightly as he realized his grasp around his partner seemed awfully tight. 

“Shhh.... Shhh, it’s ok, it’s ok babe,” Danny whispered.

Steve shook himself slightly to pull out of whatever sleep induced panic had him holding Danny so tightly.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” Steve wondered if Danny knew he was repeating his words back to him, and he wondered how much he meant them. 

“Hey,” Steve managed.

“Hey,” Danny said, with so much sleepy fondness in his voice, it made Steve's heart ache.

“Uh, you seem better,” he tried to pull himself together, and moved to get more comfortable, and allow Danny some space.

“Yeah,” Danny said, still sounding way too fond, and Steve just didn't dare hope.

“Good,” Steve said, trying not to sound completely gushy, but fairly sure he failed spectacularly, and Danny laughed, so, yeah. He tried not to look hurt, but he knew he did when Danny pulled Steve against him, and started soothing him.

“Yeah,” Danny replied warmly. “Yeah, it is good.”


End file.
